“Wherefore, then, this depression?” “Alas! my dear friend, such is the frailty of human nature; such is the mingled yarn of human destiny! A regret is sure to embitter our sweetest hopes. The happiness of this life casts its shadow before, and it is by the shadow that our attention is first attracted. You spoke of separation from those we love. Here is my letter! read it, and learn what considerations depress my spirits while seated by your side.” Charney took the letter, and for some moments held it unopened in his hand; his eyes fixed on the countenance of Girardi, he seemed desirous of reading _there_ the intelligence it contained. On examining the address he recognised with emotion the handwriting of his precious billet; and at length unfolding the paper, attempted to read aloud the contents. But his voice faltered—the words expired upon his lips; and stopping short, he concluded the letter almost inaudibly to himself. “Dearest father,” wrote Teresa, “bestow a thousand kisses upon the paper you hold in your hands; for a thousand and a thousand have I impressed upon it, as harvest for your venerated lips!” “What joy for us both, this renewal of correspondence! It is to General Menon we are indebted for the concession; he it is who has put an end to a silence which, even more than distance, seemed to keep us asunder. Blessings be upon him! _Now_, dear father, our thoughts, at least, may fly towards each other. _I_ shall communicate my hopes to sustain your courage; _you_, your griefs, in weeping over which I shall fancy I am weeping in your presence! But if a greater happiness, dearest father, were in reserve for us! For a moment, I beseech you, lay aside my letter, and summon your strength to hear the sudden joy I am about to excite in your bosom. Father! if I were once more permitted to be with you! to approach you—to listen to your instruction—to surround you with my attentions! Throughout the two years in which we enjoyed this alleviation of our affliction, captivity seemed to sit lightly on your spirits; and I entertain the hope—yes, the earnest, earnest hope, that the favour will be again vouchsafed me—that I shall be once more permitted to enter your prison!” “Teresa about to visit you! here in the fortress!” cried Charney, wild with joy. “Read on!” replied the old man, in a melancholy tone—“read on!”